


In Your Eyes

by lilsuzn



Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, The Queen's Gambit (TV), イケメンヴァンパイア | Ikemen Vampire (Visual Novel), 恋与制作人 | Liàn Yǔ Zhì Zuò Rén | Mr. Love: Queen's Choice (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:46:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsuzn/pseuds/lilsuzn
Summary: In fandoms I listed all the works that inspired me to write this whatever I'll make out of it. If you're searching for a fic with your favorite character - you might find it late on or not at all. If you're looking for a work that portrays an alternative universe filled with references from your favorite games/movies/series - here it is.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	In Your Eyes

The rain is pouring. The wind is blowing. The cars are rambling, waiting on the busy crossroad for the lights to change. Everyone is rushing somewhere. Only a few people cover their mouths and noses. Unsurprisingly, even less of them are maintaining a proper distance.

It’s funny how people decided to live through a global pandemic. At first panicking - acting like a shyed herd of sheeps. Leaving the supermarkets empty. Making the purchase of toilet paper impossible. But the more dangerous the times become, the less people care about it. Protesting against covering their faces. Denying the very existence of the virus. Creating stupid conspiracy theories.

Combined with all that natural disasters and injustice that have been happening here for the last forever? It all begins to really feel like it’s the end of the world.

You go to sleep thinking that it can’t really get much worse, but when you wake up, the world proves you different. I turn on the news in the morning, and suddenly, all that is left to do is to lay down on the railroad tracks and wait for the train to come.

Although if we, the human kind, will survive this hell we created for ourselves, there might be an incredible boom of culture. New literature, music, visuals. Society norms and overall group behaviours might change. There could even be some revolutionary changes in perceiving the world through religious beliefs. In such a scenario, growing old wouldn’t be that bad even for me. I would absolutely love to see and study this new world if it ever will come to an existence.

It’s an exciting vision, but still... Nothing guarantees that people of this era will ever reflect on what happened and what should we do differently this time.

Lightning.

One, two, three-

Thunder.

The air is heavy with the smoke of burning gasoline and the social misery as it always has been, as I walk down the busy street.

The summer is coming to an end. I guess I’ll have to make use of my life now that my apprenticeship is done with. Finally, may I even say. 

Not that I didn’t like the job or hated my mates. People in that studio were usually quite bearable. Especially that one guy. The architect with a kind attitude and big smarts, who has a girlfriend that was very much prettier than me.

Assuming that physical attractiveness can be measured and comparing looks of two different people makes any sense at all. Beauty is very subjective after all. There are some certain features that are assigned as objectively attractive, there’s no denying that, but not everyone likes their girls fit and tall. Not every girl dreams about an extremely ripped guy. There’s as many preferences as there’s people.

Still, even though we are aware that we like things that are not assigned as perfect by the fashion industry or the social media biggest influencers, many of us still buy that ‘ideal’ they put on sale.

I don’t say that I have never been a victim of this process. I absolutely was. In my teenage years I was as selfconsiuos as humanly possible. I hated every little piece of myself and I spent hours in front of the mirror, trying to find another thing that wasn’t pretty enough.

If I only knew back then, that it all would become desirable by the time I grew up.

Or that it had never been my appearance that was a problem.

I will never forget the first time I read that one quote - _Beauty is nothing other than the promise of happiness_ ( Stendhal, On Love) _._ The thoughts that bloomed in my head because of these few short words could fill all books in the world, and the feelings that fell upon my quaking heart would be able to refill the oceans, if they ever were to dry up. It was almost like I opened my eyes for the first time. In that moment I realised that I sacrifice my happiness in the name of a promise that is only a delusion I was feeding myself with.

If I was beautiful, I would be happy... Or would I? Doesn’t this pursuit of attractiveness make me even less happy? Can it be that I already was ‘pretty’ enough? Is it possible that I just wanted to believe that if I looked perfect, all of my problems would disappear into a thin air?

What if I was already beautiful all this time, just denied to accept it, because it would mean that I will really have to face my problems someday?

What if the beauty exists only in the mind of the viewer, and no cheekbones and lip shapes can make you anything more or less than?

What if your body is valid, no matter how it looks like?

Lightning.

One, two three, four-

Thunder.

Strong wind ripples through my clothes, making me tremble with cold. Pouring rain washes over me, making the fabric uncomfortably glue to my shivering skin. I didn’t have an umbrella or a proper jacket. Why would I, when it was supposed to be a warm, summer night, according to the forecast. I must look quite funny now. Walking down the street in the middle of a thunderstorm. In a straight, light denim pants and white, cropped tank top. Drenched like a rat crawling out of a drain.

Lightning.

One, two, three, four, five, six-

Thunder.

I finally turn into a less busy and loud street, and after a short walk, I enter one of the many red brick blocks standing along the street. I already feel the blooming warmth and comfort of home, when I feel the characteristic scent of the staircase. A mix of all the food my neighbors made that day. Sometimes just like a fried fish. It tends to overpower everything else.

I struggle to walk up the stairs with a small, but very heavy travel bag and the bulky backpack weighing me down. It wasn’t half as hard when I was carrying them down a week ago, but… That’s only natural, isn’t it? Parents never send their kids back away empty handed?

Lightning bursts onto the staircase through the skylight.

One, two-

Thunder.

After a years-long journey to the second floor I finally reach the door of the apartment and I can tell that at least yesterday someone on my floor indeed had fried fish for dinner. 

I don’t understand how people can eat fish. Or any meat if I’m being honest. I already get chills when I think about it.

I take out the keys from the side pocket of my travelbag and put it into a lock. 

Turn. 

Turn. Turn. 

Click.

Flash?

As soon as I push the door open a powerful light envelops everything around me, immediately taking my sight away. I take a step back, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly dizzy. Am I fainting?

My whole body becomes numb and my senses blunt. I might hear another thunder, but I can’t really tell if that wasn’t the sound my body made hitting the floor. 

It’s surely not fenomenal, but what luck I had to lose consciousness not on the street or on the staircase, but in the comfort of my own home?

The light around me begins to fade into darkness, but my mind seems to stay ever so bright. However I don’t hear anything. I didn’t feel my body hitting the floor. I still feel like I’m falling. Drifting inertly in a state that feels so purifying... Nothing exists except for me and the divine wind of my subconsciousness.

Actually... How do I know if the state I’m in is only temporary? 

It was so sudden, unexplainable. I didn’t feel bad prior to losing my consciousness. I ate and slept quite well for the last few days. I shouldn’t just sink to the ground like that.

Maybe I have some sickness I don’t know about.

Maybe I had some sickness I didn’t know about for some time, and at last it decided to strike. And struck. So the question emerge - Am I dead? Am I dying? Laying on the floor awaiting for all the living force to leave my body?

I have never been a person who was living their life to the fullest. Some might say, and did say indeed, that I am not leaving mine at all. I’ve always prefered to stay at home and do things that are often assigned as boring. Deep contemplations, good prose, costume design and the smell of a fresh oil-color - all the things that excite me.

But am I scared of death? To lose all those boring things that made my life monotonous and unexciting?

Not more than touching the hands of strangers. You would be surprised how many people don’t wash them after using the toilet and how many of them lie that they do. 

...But I guess that I am.

As everyone does, I do have plans for my life, even though one might not view them as exciting. I have dreams that are still to come true. I want to mean something to someone in this life. and to give happiness to as many people as possible. I want to leave this world with no regrets and if I was to die now, it wouldn't come true...

Just a few years ago I was a very different person. I had different dreams, different perspectives. It was my main life goal to study fashion in London’s most prestigious art school. I wanted to be a movie costume designer. I applied there knowing it will most likely remain what it always has been - a dream. One needs to be prepared both for success and failure at all times. I thought I was, but it turned out that I wasn’t really. I thought I would be fine, but when I received a decline of my application… I was a lot of things and none of them was ‘fine’.

It was like the world had ended for me. Like I could as well end my life there and then, because I’m just a waste of oxygen and food.

I got a lot of positive replies, to no surprise of mine, since I have always been a great student. I started school a year earlier than most kids, and since the very beginning I was way ahead of my peers. Every school I attended, I graduated with honors. I’ve been playing instruments, singing, dancing and acting since I was eight. Many schools would be eager to welcome me.

Not the one I wanted though… And that hurt me for a long time. Too long.

I have always been a highly emotional person, which is both my vice and virtue. I can experience positive feelings much more strongly than most people, but the bad ones work the same way and they are the ones that often affect me the most. It helps me understand people more and help them more effectively, but also tends to make my own pain too overwhelming to deal with. Especially alone and I have always felt like I am the only person in the world that should be responsible for my problems, which is a very stupid thing to believe in. Yet I can’t seem to change it.

I have that one memory. I was a little child, spending summer vacation with my family in our hut on one of the Swidish islands. Every day was beautiful, because I was too absorbed with the world of my imagination to see and understand what was happening around me. I was too fascinated with colorful flowers and furry animals to care about making friends among other people. I only had Mlem, a pretty little colt from a stud nearby. I could pet them, share my apple slides with them and tell them stories I was making up. That fulfilled all my social needs.

How easy is the life of a clueless child? How beautiful are the world's wonders through their curious eyes?

How many wonderful things would I miss if I was to die now?

What is next?

Did I go too far too fast with that death fantasy?

Will I be reborn in another form?

Will I be judged for my faith or good deeds?

Will I become one with the universe?

Will my spirit be sent back to earth to watch over some other unfortunate souls?

Thinking becomes harder and harder with each passing second. The darkness around me becomes dull, if that even makes sense.

Before I know it the ‘me’ that I have always known it evaporates and my mind is empty.


End file.
